Economics has always been a major player in creating relationships between two door to door merchants up to relationships among countries. Since day one, economics has existed. In some way.
One of the first examples we learned in the school of economics was "the salad example". Simple. One person grows lettuce and another grows tomatoes. The only way for each of them to eat a good salad with both lettuce and tomatoes is for them to barter. The first gives some lettuce in exchange for tomatoes and vice versa.
The same system exists until this day. We all remember the Iraqi oil for food program. Food to the Iraqi people in exchange for oil. Good deal! Even this program was hijacked by money lovers. No other than Mr. Kofi Anan’s son: Kojo Anan.
Anyway, let’s not get into the details.
All I want to say is that I have always been a supporter of the school which promotes free competition. It simply gives tendency to improve the quality of the products and services we consume on a daily basis, and it drives prices down. A win-win situation for both the seller and the buyer.
Still I have doubts. I believe we have been entering an era of monopolies. Yes. One single company or organization taking control of a whole industry. This company or organization can be a country.
For those of you who think I’m exaggerating. Ok. No monopolies. But oligopolies. I’m not trying to impress you with the words I'm using. But they should be known to any person. At least to those who have studied business administration or economics, or simply to those who read some business reviews.
Oligopolies, or small group of companies that control a specific sector, exist. Look at OPEC for example. Another one. Look at the G8 summit. Decisions taken by a small group of people and that affect the whole world.
Looking at what has been taking place around this world, I wonder if communism should still be that much criticized. Or why take it to the extreme. I don’t want to sound too “Stalin”. But maybe we should reconsider some old theories thrown by Marx for example. Maybe people like Guevara should be brought back from the dead.
Most of all. Maybe religion should be put away. Economics and religion can never work together. Economics is the art, and not the science (at least for me), of supply and demand while religion is the science of supply. Yes. Calculated based on how much the people give to their lords.
Again. Should the Marxists be criticized? I’m not sure. Maybe we should reconsider. Schools and universities should update their books every few years. The world is changing on the other end.
Communism and other ideologies can be rejected today but welcomed tomorrow.
Finally, isn’t communism rejected for its extremism? Aren’t imperialism and capitalism also extremes?
Why aren’t they rejected?
At least publicly.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Finally Free
Pyongyang Airport – Afternoon:
Kathleen is being arrested at the customs for no reason. She has no luggage except for the small handbag she held during the whole flight from Dubai. She was just passing by Pyongyang for some photo shooting before flying again to Beijing. That would be her last stop before going back home to Phoenix Arizona.
For thirteen years she had been working in journalism. And she excelled in it. Often criticized in the United States for showing the true positive sides of the world the Americans always wanted to hide.
Kathleen wasn’t even allowed to make a single phone call. She was thrown into a small truck which led her to a female prison on an terrible rainy day.
This was more of a terrorist kidnapping than a police arrest. Kathleen wasn’t charged for any crime. She was sure nothing was in her handbag. The only hardware she had was her camera, and not much photos were taken except for some desert sites in the United Arab Emirates.
The only thing Kathleen could think about was that she had been the victim of a long and crucial dual between countries. Between the United States and North Korea. She was an American stepping into an enemy zone. But then she thought that she was a reporter and dozens of them, Americans, fly to Pyongyang on a monthly basis.
That’s it. Kathleen was in prison. Not in any prison. In Pyongyang. No news. She had no clue of what was happening outside her room. Obviously her family had done some contacts, the American news had broadcasted it, the story became a huge headline around the world, but Kathleen felt that she had been forgotten.
Four years had passed and Kathleen was still in the Pyongyang prison. Life had no meaning anymore. Hope had vanished and therefore she was living the day just to live it. And if she did not, she wouldn’t mind.
By that time the Americans had reached an agreement with the North Koreans. Kathleen was to be released in exchange for taking away some American missiles which were placed in Afghanistan and others in Japan. Two of the largest American bases in the Eastern region. Of course all the negotiations took place through a third party: Russia mainly and under the international umbrella of the United Nations.
Kathleen went outside for her everyday walk. She was exhausted and extremely down. She could barely feel her body. She was slowly looking around but really not seeing what was out there. Pictures and sounds meant nothing anymore. Life was starting to close its curtains.
All the international channels were starting to cover the news conference during which the American ambassador to the United Nations was to announce the release of Kathleen from the North Korean prison. Channels from all around the world were covering it. In all languages.
Kathleen was standing there, somewhere in the middle of the large court where the prisoners could walk. She was looking straight at the fences which lead outside the prison. They were heavily done and there was a guard each few meters. So everybody knew there was no way out.
But still, Kathleen started to run. Going faster and faster with every step. All the other prisoners were watching. The guards were shouting. With every new step Kathleen ran, the guards were shouting louder. They were preparing the guns. Kathleen was running towards freedom. Here, she had a smile on her face.
The American ambassador spoke for about five minutes explaining the details of the negotiations that took place. Finally he said that the world is again experiencing the defeat of the evil and the freedom of the innocent.
Kathleen was five meters away from the closed fence when all the guards opened fire. The smile was still on her face when she laid down on the ground.
She was finally free.
Kathleen is being arrested at the customs for no reason. She has no luggage except for the small handbag she held during the whole flight from Dubai. She was just passing by Pyongyang for some photo shooting before flying again to Beijing. That would be her last stop before going back home to Phoenix Arizona.
For thirteen years she had been working in journalism. And she excelled in it. Often criticized in the United States for showing the true positive sides of the world the Americans always wanted to hide.
Kathleen wasn’t even allowed to make a single phone call. She was thrown into a small truck which led her to a female prison on an terrible rainy day.
This was more of a terrorist kidnapping than a police arrest. Kathleen wasn’t charged for any crime. She was sure nothing was in her handbag. The only hardware she had was her camera, and not much photos were taken except for some desert sites in the United Arab Emirates.
The only thing Kathleen could think about was that she had been the victim of a long and crucial dual between countries. Between the United States and North Korea. She was an American stepping into an enemy zone. But then she thought that she was a reporter and dozens of them, Americans, fly to Pyongyang on a monthly basis.
That’s it. Kathleen was in prison. Not in any prison. In Pyongyang. No news. She had no clue of what was happening outside her room. Obviously her family had done some contacts, the American news had broadcasted it, the story became a huge headline around the world, but Kathleen felt that she had been forgotten.
Four years had passed and Kathleen was still in the Pyongyang prison. Life had no meaning anymore. Hope had vanished and therefore she was living the day just to live it. And if she did not, she wouldn’t mind.
By that time the Americans had reached an agreement with the North Koreans. Kathleen was to be released in exchange for taking away some American missiles which were placed in Afghanistan and others in Japan. Two of the largest American bases in the Eastern region. Of course all the negotiations took place through a third party: Russia mainly and under the international umbrella of the United Nations.
Kathleen went outside for her everyday walk. She was exhausted and extremely down. She could barely feel her body. She was slowly looking around but really not seeing what was out there. Pictures and sounds meant nothing anymore. Life was starting to close its curtains.
All the international channels were starting to cover the news conference during which the American ambassador to the United Nations was to announce the release of Kathleen from the North Korean prison. Channels from all around the world were covering it. In all languages.
Kathleen was standing there, somewhere in the middle of the large court where the prisoners could walk. She was looking straight at the fences which lead outside the prison. They were heavily done and there was a guard each few meters. So everybody knew there was no way out.
But still, Kathleen started to run. Going faster and faster with every step. All the other prisoners were watching. The guards were shouting. With every new step Kathleen ran, the guards were shouting louder. They were preparing the guns. Kathleen was running towards freedom. Here, she had a smile on her face.
The American ambassador spoke for about five minutes explaining the details of the negotiations that took place. Finally he said that the world is again experiencing the defeat of the evil and the freedom of the innocent.
Kathleen was five meters away from the closed fence when all the guards opened fire. The smile was still on her face when she laid down on the ground.
She was finally free.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
The Walk
Hisham was walking alone in the old streets of Baghdad. Admiring every single detail, from old houses and buildings to retail shops and groceries.
This time all seemed beautiful.
Hisham was seeing things as if he had never seen them before. Colors were more colored. Sounds were clearer and nicer. He was wondering where all of this was the day before.
Had he changed? No. Had the city changed? Not that quickly. But he could see.
On that day life wore its nicest dress. Hisham was a happy man in a beautiful city. A perfect combination. A dream.
Wandering from one place to another was something Hisham loved to do during that day. Baghdad hadn’t looked that nice for years. It was so peaceful. No one was talking to him and he felt like not talking to anyone as well. He was enjoying the moment.
A basket of oranges appeared to him at a distance. The color was so attractive that he had to cross the road and go straight toward it. He wasn’t hungry. It was just the perfect color that called him. Once he was near the small fruit market, Hisham walked toward the oranges and picked up one. He was holding it using both his hands. It was so close to his eyes that people could think he was crazy. But he wasn’t. He was looking at the orange and wondering how he could have never realized how beautiful it was. How he could have never appreciated life for its smallest details.
He was wondering.
Suddenly … BANG … in a matter of a second …
Huge explosion in the small Baghdad fruit market. Black smoke covered the whole area. Not a single person could have survived the blast. Men, women and children. All were laying around dead. The sound of the explosion was extremely loud.
A catastrophe.
Hisham was still standing there with his orange. Dead bodies all around him. Yes. He wasn’t among them. He was confused. How could the blast have not killed him? Or at least throw him away and cause him injuries? Total confusion.
Then. He realized.
Hisham was killed the day before in another Baghdad explosion two blocks away. He just wanted to take a last walk around the city he loved so much.
Everything had seemed so beautiful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)